


Rise and Fall

by spilled_notes



Series: Mad March Prompt Challenge [21]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6409498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spilled_notes/pseuds/spilled_notes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt 'slow dance' (although really it's just 'dance').</p><p>Set in the same AU as 'Courage'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rise and Fall

Now dinner is over, couples are starting to trickle onto the dance floor. Jocelyn is still making her round of the room, talking to clients and solicitors, but Maggie is content to sit and sip her wine, digesting the very delicious food.

 _Trust Jocelyn’s chambers to pick somewhere fancy for their Christmas meal,_ she thinks.

Her glass is almost empty when Jocelyn finally makes it back to her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says with an apologetic smile.

‘Got to give everyone a piece of the star barrister,’ Maggie grins. ‘Keep the punters happy.’

‘Yes, well,’ Jocelyn says, holding out her hand. ‘Now it’s my turn to be happy.’

Maggie sets down her glass and lets Jocelyn lead her out among the other couples.

‘I’ve always wanted to be able to dance properly,’ she says as they begin to move.

‘Since Blackpool?’ Jocelyn asks, remembering their conversation on the beach back when they first met, before she fell in love.

Maggie nods.

‘One day we’ll learn, I promise. For now you’ll just have to make do with this, I’m afraid.’

She draws Maggie closer, feels her surprise in the momentary stillness before she settles into her arms.

‘Full of surprises, you,’ she murmurs.

‘Not hiding, remember?’ Jocelyn replies, pressing her lips to the side of Maggie’s head. ‘I’m trying, Maggie. I really am.’

‘I know, petal.’ Maggie looks at her, meets her eye. ‘I’m proud of you.’

‘Well, really,’ Jocelyn blushes.

‘No, I am. I know this isn’t easy. I know it would have been easier for you to not come back to me, to bottle everything up and ignore it.’

‘I nearly did,’ Jocelyn says quietly.

She looks over Maggie’s head at the room full of her colleagues, in varying states of intoxication and displaying wildly varying levels of dancing prowess. She catches sight of Richard, just as he happens to glance their way; he smiles, and Jocelyn feels her heart swell almost painfully.

‘I love you,’ she says softly beside Maggie’s ear, tightening her grip slightly.

Maggie’s heart skips a beat, as it does on every one of those rare occasions when Jocelyn actually says the words.

*          *          *

_Some years later…_

Maggie pulls up in the car park of a village hall just outside Broadchurch with a crunch of gravel, and looks over at Jocelyn.

‘Now will you tell me why we’re here?’ she asks hopefully.

‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

Maggie huffs at her, but Jocelyn just smiles enigmatically and says nothing.

In the lobby they join a few other waiting couples. From the hall they can hear music, and Maggie peers through the glass panel in the door. Eyes widening she glances at Jocelyn, who is watching her carefully.

‘Have you danced before?’ one of the men asks Jocelyn.

‘A little, a very long time ago,’ she replies. Her gaze is still on Maggie, whose eyes keep flicking between her and the couples dancing around the hall. ‘You?’

‘Complete beginners,’ he says with a grin.

The music stops, the door opens and out come half a dozen couples, followed by a smiling man Jocelyn recognises from a photo on the dance school website.

‘Good evening everybody, come on in.’

‘Dancing lessons?’ Maggie whispers as they shed their coats and stand uncertainly with the others in a cluster at one end of the room.

‘I did promise,’ Jocelyn smiles. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thank you, petal,’ Maggie smiles in return, reaching for Jocelyn’s hand and squeezing gently.

‘Alright, we’ll start with a bit of waltz,’ the teacher calls. ‘Spread yourselves out, gentlemen facing this way, ladies facing them.’ He glances at Jocelyn and Maggie. ‘Which one of you’s going to lead?’

Jocelyn nods towards Maggie.

‘I wouldn’t presume,’ she says drily.

Jocelyn catches her eye. The man watches the silent conversation that passes between them, takes it to be negotiation. Can’t know the real meaning: _you have to lead, because otherwise what happens when I can’t see any more?_

‘Alright,’ Maggie says softly. And then lighter, teasing: ‘You know that means I’m in charge, don’t you?’

 

It’s a disaster. They tread on each other’s toes, forget steps, struggle to keep in time with the music. But Maggie’s grin makes it all worthwhile, and Jocelyn knows they’ll be coming back next week.


End file.
